


Truly Bewitching

by Bundlino



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Angst and Humor, Astral Projection, Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, College, Comedy, Contracts, Desert Island, Drama, Duelling, Eventual Romance, Familiars, Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, Original Character(s), Post-Break Up, Potions, Romance, Sad and Happy, Spells & Enchantments, Summoning, Talking Animals, The Astral Plane, University, Wandless Magic, Weird Plot Shit, Witch Hunters, Witches, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bundlino/pseuds/Bundlino
Summary: Minho's ex-boyfriend, Chan, is corrupted by forbidden magic.In order to save him, he first has to figure out who gave him the spell book. That, and also escape a deserted island while he's at it. And maybe rekindle some past feelings.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	1. Are You Shore?

"You're lost, aren't you?"

A mosquito buzzed right passed in front of Minho's face, startling him. 

Jisung pushed on with his question, "So when are you going to admit you're lost?"

Minho twitched his eye in annoyance, brushing back against another palm leaf as they continued forward. "Blasted leaping-toads, Jisung! I'll transform you into a sand crab and bury you under if you ask me that one more time."

"You mean if you can even get us off this island? How about less jibber-jabber with the oh-so-threatening threats, and more resulting results!"

"For the last time, I'm not lost. This place is not that big, so it's impossible to get lost. I just don't know what else to do!" As Minho was the more experienced Witch out of the two, it was taking every fiber of his being to not give the less experienced one a good flick on the forehead. Instead, he merely turned around briefly to face his friend, hovering his hands over to both of Jisung's shoulders and resisting the urge to fling him across the ocean. 

Minho's partner in crime quirked his brow in response. "What are you thinking of trying there?"

"Nothing Sungie," he assured as he forced a pleasant smile, "you know I love you right?"

Jisung steadily pulled off Minho's hands that were driving into his shoulders. "I would certainly believe you if the calculated anger was not sculpted onto your face."

"What are you blabbering about now? I can promise this is my most joyous expression," he bit sarcastically, almost in a defeated manner.

After a pause, nodding was the only thing Jisung could think of doing. "I understand you are very exhausted—"

"Exhausted!?" Minho yelled up at the night, starry sky. He clutched at the sides of his head and ran a frustrated hand through his hair as if he were reaching a breaking point. "I don't even think that is the tip of the iceberg, Jisungie! We've been walking in circles for days! The Town Mayor gave me the task of defeating my ex-lover, but at what cost? How foolish! Does he not comprehend the emotional distress this causes me!? But what do I get in return when confronting Channie? An immediate teleportation to the marvelous vacation spot of an abandoned island in the middle of who knows where. And if I have to see or think about another piece of seaweed lying around the shore I'm going to personally hand-deliver that Corrupted Witch a seaweed knuckle sandwich! And I would guess it will be very salty! I can only imagine the disgust on his face when he tastes it! Would you or would you not agree it would be most unpleasant, Jisung?"

"Surely that isn't the only punishment you can think of, Minho?"

"I- I can think of something better! Just give me a few days, or weeks, or months, or years, or—"

"I think I got the point. Besides, you aren't alone in all of this because you have me, right?" he grinned.

Minho stared blankly. "Right," he said, "no, you're absolutely right, I'm sorry." There was a bit of an awkwardness in the air. He lowered his head a little down at his feet in shame. 

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Minho apologized once again, "you've been through just as much as me, and all I can think about is myself. It's selfish, and I know you mean well and are just trying to help. As an older Witch you should be the one to rely on me, but right now I keep hitting a thick wall. I must not be setting a great example. I must look like a total amateur, and I'm a failure as a Witch."

Jisung slapped Minho's back wholeheartedly. "Now, now! There's no reason to get all soft and sad just because we've been locked away from society for a couple days. What is it, like three and a half days? And yeah I am just as guilty as you are, since we're both kind of imprisoned here. I'm sure you'll find the solution and get us out and save your boyfriend or whatever."

"Ex-boyfriend, and I don't care him about him that much."

"Sure, same difference."

"There is no same difference because there is a total difference! A huge difference, even!"

Jisung rolled his eyes. "If Sally sells seashells by the seashore, would that not just mean all shells are seashells? But what is stopping her there? She can sell seashores if she wanted to!"

"Wha—"

Jisung pushed an index finger onto Minho's chest. "Exactly, Minho! It's the same thing."

Minho narrowed his eyes towards him. "Run that by me one more time?"

Jisung narrowed his eyes back. "I think you understood what I meant."

"Oddly enough, but if Sally is selling by the seashore isn't that not safe? Why is she selling by the seashore in the first place?"

"That's not the point—" Jisung let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a figure of speech!"

"Little Witch Jeongin is going to have a laughing fit when I tell him about that one."

"That's only if if we can even see Jeongin," Jisung pointed out. "I don't even think he knows we're gone, or anyone else for that matter."

"Right again," Minho confessed. "Undoing this powerful magic is harder than I anticipated. It's difficult to reverse-engineer a spell when you're quite literally stranded on a deserted island with little to no ingredients." 

"Yeah, but there has to be a way. There's always a way. Every magic spell has a loophole."

Minho nodded. "Yes, yes, we know all that."

"Thinking of it like some sort of formula, we need to first understand how Chan constructed it in the first place. Once we know that, then we can begin to point out and pull the parts bit by bit, deconstructing his little scheme. There's always a couple of components to magic. Unfortunately, I don't even know how to begin deconstructing it either." 

"Well," Minho hesitated, "if I were Chan, I wouldn't think he'd make it so easy to escape. I mean we've tried everything." 

"That's true."

"On one side of the island there is an abundance of coconuts, but those aren't the proper key ingredient to any spell at all that I know of. And on the other is a mass collection of seaweed that piled up from the tide, but I long fear that'll serve little power to whip up a teleportation spell out of here. The palm tree bark isn't suitable for building a raft, and all we have left for warmth is some sticks we found on the ground. There's not a bird or animal in sight, and we've been surviving off fruit and a small pond of fresh water. I think Chan has thought of everything."

Jisung countered. "That is a bit weird, though. Because usually palm tree rafts float. When we built that raft yesterday it just sank right to the bottom of the ocean as soon as I dared to even lay a foot on it." He looked at the callus that had formed on his fingertips from all the wood and knot tying. "All that hard work for hours on end, for nothing."

Minho nodded, taking Jisung's observation as a final confirmation. Admittedly, he didn't think it was possible. It was unreasonable to think, yet there was hardly any other explanation. "Which leads me to the inevitable conclusion that neither of us wants to admit. This island isn't real."

Jisung's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "You think Chan has grown that powerful? In such a short amount of time? But that means—"

"I think so," Minho blurted out. "I— I don't know..."

They both fell silent. 

Forbidden magic was immensely potent and raw in all its forms. The more a Witch used it, the more likely it would corrupt their mind and body — their soul. Symptoms don't usually set in and aren't obvious for the first couple of weeks, but the gradual process withers away at one's essential being and manifests in harmful ways in the surrounding areas. For one of the most powerful Witches to completely create an artificial island isn't entirely unheard of, but for Chan to completely create an artificial island? It would definitely take a toll on him. Normal Witches don't just whip up fake masses of land out of thin air. That wasn't how it worked. 

It wasn't how it worked at all. Magic was like the electrical frequency that coursed through one's veins, and their body was the vessel. Overwhelming that vessel would have dire consequences. Especially with forbidden magic, of all things. 

Chan, Minho, and Jisung. The three had long been best friends since childhood. Of course they wouldn't want one of themselves to dive into the dark side. To fall into temptation. Which is exactly why Jisung and Minho had devised a plan to steal Chan's spell book on forbidden magic from his residence once it was revealed he had acquired one. All other questions regarding it would have to wait. But of course, there was one major problem. 

Chan was one step ahead, and they got caught. And now here they were, both almost in tears.

Minho continued, "I don't want to think his condition is getting worse. But if it is, this is worse than I thought if he keeps going at this rate. He could die, Jisung."

"B—but the Council of Light. They should have stepped in already by now when we filed the report before Chan poofed us both here. It'll be okay."

"I hope so."

Jisung swallowed down. "Look, there's no sense in picking daisies, wasting our time pondering the worst outcome. We need to work faster. We need to make sure he's okay."

"I know that, I know that. So what do you suggest?"

"Well if Plan A was to find ingredients to dispel Chan's magic, we quickly found out that was a bust. Plan B was to teleport out of here, but again no ingredients. And we can't fly out of here either. Plan C was the raft, but that was a pitiful loss. Plan D could be to swim out of here, but I'm a weak swimmer and we don't know how far the nearest coast is, and you... can't swim at all."

"My apologies. I didn't think it was crucial to take swimming lessons as a child, since as you know, I'm a damn Witch."

"And that's working out great for us right now."

Minho clasped his hands together and swayed on his feet. "It's just splendid, isn't it?"

"So now we are back to square one, unfortunately." 

There was another mosquito. With a hard slap to his own arm, Minho winced. "The least Chan could have done was whisked away all these blasted mosquitoes while conjuring up this floating island. He's mocking me, I can feel it." This time he slapped his leg in quite the aggravation. "He really has turned evil."

Jisung hummed in amusement. "You shouldn't kill mosquitoes, you're destroying the food chain for other animals that are dependent on it." 

"What food chain? There are no living creatures in sight," Minho chimed in. "And relax, I didn't kill it. But some plant life is probably dependent on it, so you're right. You win this round."

With careful consideration, Jisung added, "I'm still not quite convinced Chan designed and produced an environment for us in such a short amount of time."

"You don't think so?" 

"It seems impossible," Jisung insisted. "I mean why would he do that? It seems like such a roundabout attempt at getting rid of us. And he hates us, so why put in that much effort towards it? I just don't see the motivation behind it." 

"I wouldn't say he hates us. He just doesn't particularly like us at the moment. Channie... is currently not the same Channie I used to know. But still, I know him. It seems like something he would do." Minho bit his lip. "Wait, I can prove it."

To say that Jisung was intrigued now was an understatement. "You can prove it? How so?"

"With a Locator spell I learned in one of my side readings for Professor Drayne's class last year. I thought it was pretty neat at first, but the downside was it only pinpoints locations that are already on the world map." Minho elaborated, "It's basically useless if you lost things in the ocean, since underwater is uncharted territory for the most part."

"So what you're saying is..."

"We are the lost things in the ocean, just not underwater."

Jisung nodded once, with his mouth hanging slightly open in awe. "That makes sense, I guess?"

"It'll only locate us on the map if we're on an island that already exists within the world map, therefore..."

"Therefore..." Jisung wanted him to finish his sentence.

"Therefore, if it doesn't find us, then we can safely assume this is not a real island." 

Jisung crossed his arms, opening his mouth to say something but quickly closing it. Then once more, he opened again, "I see." It wasn't like Jisung didn't believe Minho. He wanted to believe Minho, but the odds of it being true seemed too one-sided. "So how do we go about creating this Locator spell? Is it even possible in our situation?"

There was a small drop of water that landed on Minho's cheek. As he looked up at the sky, he answered Jisung's question, "It's very possible to do it, but it doesn't seem like Chan wants us to." There was another drip of water, and soon enough numerous drops followed. It was beginning to rain. 

"There's enough for a fire back at the cave."

Minho and Jisung looked at the scenery from their shelter, watching the downpour of water completely covering the entirety of the island outside. The cracking sounds of a warm fire accompanied the rain droplets from the distance, encompassing the boys in a calming silence. On one side of the fire, Minho lay on his side with one arm propping up his head. On the other side, Jisung lay on his stomach, chin sitting comfortably on the back of his hands that rested on the ground.

An hour had passed since the rain started. It was Jisung that was first to break the silence. "Do you think we can help him?"

Minho's eyes slowly hovered over Jisung, and then back to the rain. "Help who?"

Jisung scoffed, tiredly, "Who else? I'm talking about Chan."

"Chan..." Minho repeated the name, letting his voice drift off. The surrounding rain from outside repeatedly hit the ground, drenching the entryway as small streaks of water flowed down and around and in between cracks of rock.

With a slight smirk on his face, Jisung lowered his eyelids, "You should really finish your sentences."

Minho also closed his eyes. "I would rather not, but I will do my best to help him, even if he does hate me. I'll always help him. That's what friends do." 

"Friends, is that right?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"I could say the same to you."

Minho sighed. "I just hope Soonie, Doongie, and Dori found the cat food. I don't want them to think I'm a terrible person that forgot about his own children."

Jisung couldn't bring himself to open his heavy eyelids, so he just turned his head to face Minho a bit. "They would never think that. They're too smart. Remember that one time they found Felix hiding in the magic cafe after you two had a little fight and we hadn't heard from him in weeks?"

The tiny laughter of Minho echoed through the cave. "Yeah, that was pretty funny. Felix wasn't too happy about that."

"It really was funny, the owner of the place had to kick both Felix and your cats out."

"I don't even like coffee, and Felix is lactose intolerant. I would have never guessed he would be there, but the look on his face was priceless."

"You could say that again," Jisung's voice was starting to drift off.

"I said that Felix is lactose intolerant and I don't like coffee, so seeing his face was—"

"Not what I meant and you know it, go to sleep already."

Minho laughed again in a subtle matter, "Good night."

"Good night."


	2. From Paradise, a Witch's Duty

"I refuse."

"You will do as you are told, Lee Minho," the Town Mayor ordered, "Otherwise we will have reason to believe you are a traitor, then ban you from Levanin University, and have the Council expel you from all activities of magic!" As he slammed his fists down, the half-filled coffee mug on the workplace desk shook violently. In direct correlation, the dark liquid inside began to bubble a bit, almost instantaneously from the Mayor's angry outburst. 

"On what grounds!?" Minho shouted, "I demand to know who you think you are, hiding away in your office while conveniently shoving responsibility and all of its dangerous repercussions to a nobody. You can't play me for a fool, although maybe I should inform the Council of Light of your negligence to secure the safety of your city! Not even you supersede their authority! You can't even hold a candle to the scum and dirt I step on—"

"Minho, enough," Jisung attempted at an interruption. If this kept going, it would really ruin relations with the city.

Yet neither of them would listen. The Mayor's fiery, red hair partially reflected on the mug, stubbornly burning into Jisung's brain. Its blatant contrast to everything else in the dimly-lit room only seemed to highlight the difficult personality. 

"Deflecting affiliation, are we? You are hardly the nobody that you claim to be, considering you have known him personally beyond a decade's time. Along with you!" The Mayor glared at Jisung, referring to both of them. "Perhaps instead, I should be the one to report to the Council of Light and see what they have to say about your suspected allegiance to Bang Chan the Corrupted. Once they are involved, it will get ugly for everyone here. I suspect that is something you would not want."

That was the last straw. This arguing had been going back and forth for some time. "Don't slander me with your lackluster imagination and just leave us out of it, you good-for-nothing twit," Jisung argued back. This did indeed tick him off to no end. "We would not hurt anyone. And I strongly recommend you never call Chan that again, nor are we under his dark spell like you claim. You and me both know that I don't have the firepower to restrain him or I would have done so long ago, but even so. You don't have a damn clue about him or anything else." 

The boiling coffee spilled over, surrounding and stinging the hand of the Mayor in a dark puddle. However, he refused to let out a yelp or any sound once he noticed the pain, which in turn frightened Minho and Jisung at his resilience as an authority figure. Rather than getting more upset, he hardened his expression and wiped off the liquid with a handkerchief equipped from his vest. If he was saving face, he was doing a good job at it. "Are you boys done?" 

What remained of the bitter coffee gradually simmered down. There was a loud silence in the room.

"Good," the Mayor proceeded. "That delinquent is getting stronger as we speak and has already repelled our best Witch Legions consisting of two of our university's professors specializing in Battle Magic. What other options would you suggest, then? Would you want the ominous Entanglement Spell that was cast to overtake the rest of the Student District and harm more innocent people? Or worse, what if it spreads to the rest of Levanin? You have lives sitting in your hands here. Thinking clearly is definitely not what you're doing at the moment."

Minho bit down his tongue at that. Breaking away from the Mayor's piercing gaze in the suffocating atmosphere that was his office, he could not even deny it. It was all true. The purple roots of the school's Venom Tree had already overtaken several of the top students' residences from what some complaints had reported, completely infiltrating inside of the students' lodges and out the windows and all around in a complicated web. That same area in the Student District had effectively become consumed in a toxic scent that had slowly made its victims sick. It sounded worse than it actually was. Normally, the toxins would not have that much of an impact on an ordinary Witch's well-being, although it would already be deemed poisonous to a Familiar in its original state. The effected Witches would be fine for now, so long as they got treated. Which they were. Yet all traces of the spell that surged the Venom Tree's growth pointed back to Chan. 

Again, there was no denying all of that, no matter how much Minho wanted to. And it reflected horribly on him and Jisung, given the circumstances.

The Mayor continued, taking their lack of response as being on the same page. "All I ask is for your cooperation. If there are any Witches of the forty thousand attending the university that Bang Chan would not harm, it would be you two. As residents of Levanin, I order you both to fulfill your duties to your people. Report Bang Chan within the hour and urge him to stand down, even if it's by force. Do so, or cease to be a Witch of Levanin forever."

Minho opened his mouth, presumably to refuse once more. But before he could finish a word, it was too late.

"You may withdraw from my presence." With a wave of his hand in dismissal, the Mayor's magic sparkled from his palm and poofed Minho and Jisung out of his office, leaving a trail of teleportation smoke behind. "And good riddance."

Back outside the Mayor's building, Jisung and Minho screamed as they reappeared dangerously several feet up in the air and fell back down, plopping somewhat safely on the soft, white-layered ground that stifled their shouts abruptly. Gentle snowfall had been accumulating since the crack of dawn. Both of their chests were heaving at the sudden shock of impact. 

"T—That reckless guy. Here he is scolding us for our alleged actions, meanwhile he's willing to risk getting us both killed due to his silly hunch that we're somehow at Chan's beck and call, but he doesn't even have the etiquette to port us on the ground like a decent Witch!" Jisung huffed out, trying to take back control of the air that was knocked out of him when he landed on his back. "He's treating us like we're criminals."

After that rude and sudden teleportation, he couldn't help but agree with the Mayor's urgency. "Sungie, we have no choice," Minho mumbled in slight pain, mostly from the fall. In part, his tone indicated he had something else on his mind. "Maybe he's right."

Jisung looked at his friend. "Did that coffee get to your brain, too? We can't capture Bang Chan the Corrupted."

Stabilizing his breath a bit, Minho was concerned. "I thought you said not to call him that?"

"He's my criminal friend, I'll call him whatever I want as I please."

Minho scoffed, smiling. "So what, does that make us his partners in crime?"

"Might as well make a run for it. We can't compete against Channie like this. It would be a different story without that blasted spell book of his."

Right away, Minho fixated on Jisung with an enlightened expression. "You're a genius, that's it! I'm amazed at how you don't even try, Sungie. Why fight Channie when we can just use the ancient art of swindling!"

He was playfully offended. "I'll have you know I'm always trying my best, but as for fighting Chan? The coffee got to you, my precious friend. I'm so sorry." Quivering his lip, he faked an oh-so-tragic sniffle. "It was nice knowing you, but I'm afraid we're going to have to cut ties here." 

"Jisungie, while I applaud the smart-ass remarks in our current situation, I'm quite serious about this." Minho grimaced as he sat up, leaving the obvious imprint of his body on the snow behind him. "If Channie would destroy us to bits in a real fight, then we should just make it so he cannot fight with a huge advantage from the start."

"And how do your propose we do that, dare I even ask?"

Minho looked him dead in the eye. "Do you still have that old, molded cheese in your fridge that reeks oddly familiar of a mix between a terrified skunk and haunting memories?"

Unbothered, Jisung merely made small up-and-down movements with his arms to create a snow angel from where his body was placed. "That's weirdly descriptive and you're undoubtedly over-exaggerating, but yes. I was saving it for the Levantering, if it's any of your concern."

He nodded. "Well, we're going to need it. Right away."

"What are you getting at?" Jisung leered.

Minho finally stood up completely, standing tall above Jisung while he lay on the ground. "Invisibility. It's delicate and difficult to master, but it'll succeed upon us both chanting the spell without failing to give it satisfactory concentration."

Jisung sighed. This couldn't be good. "So your plan is to use one of the banned enchantments under the university even though all Witches were specifically instructed to never exploit its usage? A spell which has a long history of being used against our own kind? The same Invisibility Spell that could permanently kick us out for breaking the rules if we get caught even if that cowardly Mayor doesn't exile us himself? You're talking about that same Invisibility Spell?"

"Basically."

"Okay, I'm in."

Minho snorted. "Really? That easy?"

"It sure beats getting killed. As long as we don't get caught, then it shouldn't be a problem. If anyone manages to catch on, then we give them a good razzle dazzle."

It was probably in Minho's best interests to be fully and completely honest. "No, we'll probably get caught. By Chan to be specific, unless we're perfect."

And just like that, Jisung's heart sank. "Minho, what do you mean it could possibly not be perfect—"

"It's not like Chan is just going to leave the spell book out in the open. Anyone would be smarter than that, Jisungie. He will probably be close to it at all times. Besides, this spell has a lot of rough edges. If anything, we might get most of it down. I doubt we would manage the entirety."

This worried Jisung, as was clearly expressed in his shaken eyes. Minho could tell.

"Relax, we just have to be incredibly quiet. Otherwise it alerts the enemy of our presence, at least that's what a simple Invisibility Spell template says. However, if even an ounce of our measurements for the spell are off, it will diminish the quality and mess us up later. With that said, most of the spell is better than nothing."

Jisung's intense stare could probably melt the toughest of steel. "I know that, but the way you're talking about it is oddly composed and indifferent, as if you won't take part in the preparation."

"Oh that's because I won't," Minho confirmed. "You will."

"Do you have any idea what you are saying? In order to ensure the lasting effects of a banned enchantment it would make more sense for you to—"

"Sungie, you are an incredible Witch. Stop giving yourself little credit when you know you can accomplish more. I'll meet you back at your place in ten minutes."

"Minho, wait—"

But of course, it was too late. Minho twirled a single finger into the air, and like magic, he was gone in the next instant. All that was left was a coughing Jisung as he was eating up leftover magic residue while the puff of smoke had equally caught him off guard.

"Coward! You didn't even tell me the ingredients!" Jisung yelled out loud into the Olde District where he stood, unashamedly startling the nearby locals in the Olde Park directly across the Mayor's Office. Minho couldn't have gone very far with a mere Teleportation Spell and was probably lurking around behind some downtown building a street away, but time was burning away for Jisung.

Five minutes later Jisung burst through his house door on the other side of town in a panic. It took a great deal of teleportation jumps and a lot of running. He noticed the stained, red rug where he may have spilled an active ingredient on his way out yesterday. The fireplace at the end of the living room was still going, oddly enough. He had forgotten to put it out when the Mayor called for an emergency meeting so early in the morning. But there were other important things that needed attending.

Jisung passed his room to the left and the dark couches situated towards the walls as well as passed the blazing fire, heading into the entryway to the kitchen, and swinging open the fridge in a rushed manner. Scanning what little of nothing was inside, he spotted and took hold of the cheese with a napkin from the kitchen counter. "There you are!" 

It wasn't normal cheese. It was a rare seasonal item mixed with unidentified properties made entirely by scratch from experienced, local Agriculture Witches to ward off the harsh cold's magical jammings. Quite often it could be found sold out because of less powerful Witches' reliance on it. Coincidentally, it is able to be used for many other countess spells, at least in varied and reasonable portion sizes. A single touch of this thing would be so strong that it would most likely send a talking Curse down his hand and arm or some other horrible side effect. He would know, considering Minho was the type of Witch to always attract Curses. That would explain why he was doing this alone. Precautions had to be taken. Even with a thin layer preventing skin contact, it didn't always prevent the bad luck that radiated off Cursed items.

Almost tripping over himself as he shut the fridge, he ran back to the couch area and went into the Spell Room opposite his own bedroom. Every Witch had one of these in their residences for studies and practicing. 

In particular, his work station area had a remarkable collection of rare pearls neatly sitting in an open, golden box on a desk towards the back end of the room which was accompanied by an ordinary lamp and tan, cushioned rolling chair. Assorted greenery, spices, and buoyant yet lustrous-powdery elements inside jars hung all around from the ceiling like a series of pale-yellow and icy-blue decorative ornaments. Near the legs of the desk was an overused, orange and fuzzy beanbag that Minho would sometimes use every so often when he visited. The other sides of the Spell Room had full, disorganized bookshelves while the dark-wooden walls themselves were mostly plastered in paper full of writings such as his lists, ingredients, and instructions for specific spells or assignments he had hoarded from the years. Some of them were probably failed essays he forgot to throw out. Equally just the same, the wooden flooring was entirely covered with ripped pages and a single pile of unread books up to his height. There was also a charcoal-colored, anti-magic mat in the shape of a square at the center for... safety purposes.

Still holding the cheese with a napkin, he set it down on the square to avoid any odd tripping that could potentially cause disaster. Next to his prized collections was a lab table against the same wall filled with test tubes and flasks of colorful liquids. Quickly, Jisung grabbed the crucible tongs and picked up the green-blue looking test tube labelled Divine Sea, almost knocking the black glass of Twisted Nightmare in the process. That would have been devastating. The bad luck should have worn off once he put it down on the mat, meaning he was just being careless now.

Jisung flicked the switch on the side of the lab table, turning on the bunsen burner wherein he carefully set the Divine Sea over it using the ring stand. "To let boil for approximately one minute, if I remember correctly," he mumbled to himself. In a little corner of the room were small, plastic containers piled high and almost reaching the roof. With a beckon of his finger, he ushered the testing container sitting atop to move to him. "Come!"

There was a shift in the air. Obeying on command, the container began to float up by his Levitation Spell, slowly drifting over to the other side of the room and onto Jisung's open palms. 

Adjacent to the lab station, on the nearest wall, was a tinted window with a nice view of outside. Of course, from outdoors no one could see inwards. But he could see everything as the caressing snow had been bundling up evenly on his front neighbor's house in the distance. The pretty shingles of dark bronze that would normally be seen on the roof were no longer visible. All Witch houses were constructed the same by the city with their wooden interiors, cobblestone exteriors, Spell Room, living room, kitchen, and bedroom that included the room for hygiene. 

Admittedly it was quite nice. Levanin was home to one of the more well-known universities for Witches, despite its medium population density, so naturally the city leaders advocated to take care of their own as best as possible. As a result, Levanin had virtually no homelessness in all several of its districts, giving value to its motto: No Witch Shall Go Hungry or Houseless. This included giving residents in the Student District a cozy home, which was especially great for the colder season. Unless of course, the Levantering rolled around, which was due any day now.

Situated at the center of the Student District was the city's only university as it was everyone's greatest pride. All of the surrounding student residences were spaced out in patterns and encircled the university according to their rankings, making up the official neighborhoods. The further a neighborhood was usually meant the student earned a smaller place, also meaning one needed to polish up their skills as a Witch. Or at least that's the misinformation that society often internalized. Jisung knew better. Earning a spot further from Levanin University also meant one was weak. It just was never outright said in the open like that.

Since the long circles of neighborhoods were categorized into ranks, this inevitably placed him in one of the Rank B neighborhoods. Not too bad, but also not over the top. Jisung was only a little over ten neighborhoods away. 

Minho, on the other hand, was closer to the university. He was Rank S, after all. Seen as a big honor, it was the highest tier available for a student Witch. It was also how he could form a contract with his Familiars. Or rather, a Witch needed to properly summon a Familiar in order to finally be classified as Rank S. It was one of the requirements, infamous for being one of the hardest ones.

The Rank S neighborhood circle only included the top one hundred ranking students, but if Jisung included all the students ranging from first years to fourth years it would be four hundred total in the Rank S category. Rank A, which was one tier below Rank S, had about two thousand in each year, making a grand total of eight thousand students. Rank B was much more vast with its twelve thousand houses. And lastly, the Unranked neighborhoods rounded off the rest with another twelve thousand or so.

Of course, there was also the unofficial top number one Witch from the first years, second years, third years, and fourth years — the four Witches of Rank SS. These Witches were legends in the making, considered as leaders of their individual class years. Again, unofficially. But that was a different story for another day.

Jisung flicked off the lab table's switch. 

Eyeing the bubbles with great caution, he swirled the test tube delicately a few times to examine its particles for preparation. "Just a little more and—"

A loud knocking at the front door almost made Jisung spill the entire chemical, though he did drop the container onto the floor. No big deal. As he scrambled a hand to his beating chest, he slowly put the Divine Sea and tongs back down. Almost instantly, the knocking turned into excessive banging, making Jisung freeze in place. It couldn't be Minho.

Minho never knocked that loud.

Jisung woke up. 

Upon several blinks, the world in front of him blurred into fullness. "Minho?"

After a glance to his side, he noticed the empty spot where the older Witch was last night after the rain. In its place instead was the black, long coat he had used prior to being on the island. The different weather attire was just too extreme. 

Jisung reached an arm over his shoulder to stretch a bit before dusting off the lingering dirt on his black shorts and white shirt. Specifically, they used to be black pants, but a certain more experienced Witch insisted they adapt to their environments by ripping off half. As a result, there was some fraying at the bottom.

The embers of the fireplace in the center of the cave had gone out some hours ago, judging by the looks of it. Its ashy remains served as a reminder in the back of his head to gather more wood. Jisung followed the light out of the small cave to get back to work.

Almost immediately, the surrounding moisture had more of a noticeable presence and clung onto his skin. Humidity was definitely more prevalent here than back in town, and it was only more apparent as the days passed by achingly slow. 

From where he stood at the entryway, he could see the clouds generously blocking most of the sun's rays. For that, he was at the very least grateful. A sudden wind soothed him, picking up and running through his unkempt, dark hair only to for it hug back down on his forehead, half of it parted. Directly towards the east was the shore populated by coconut trees they've come to know as Coconut Aisle and towards the west was the more shallow water area that stockpiled never-ending waves of seaweed dubbed as Seaweed Side, notorious for irritating Minho to no end. So naturally, he headed for the place where he would find Minho.

To the north.

To the north was the more enjoyable Sanctuary where all types of flowers bloomed and all kinds of trees towered over the both of them beyond normal circumstances. The regular palm trees, without coconut growing from them, were relatively relaxing to look at with their rounded, smooth leaflet divisions. At the same time, there were other species of tree that Jisung didn't quite know the names of, some being more sharp and jagged in appearance. It was all so different. In comparison, Levanin had a much more niche diversity of plant life. For example, it is common knowledge that the average Witch studies the origins of the Magic Tree and its irregular migration patterns while growing up. Since the birth of the planet, and according to dedicated documentations of Scholars, the Magic Tree has appeared on all four Greater Continents and the one Lesser Continent. To see the Magic Tree personally would be every Witch's dream, as it would mean witnessing magic itself in its oldest form. 

It was nothing like the trees on the island, of which he knew little.

The Magic Tree had its own song, a league above all other living things. He wasn't sure what exactly that meant. But even so, there was something magical about these in front of him as well. But perhaps, not in the literal sense.

Jisung hopped over a large rock in his path, spewing the sand beneath his feet as he landed. Many Witches claimed that the Magic Tree had personally touched them from the heart, simply with its existence. He has heard all kinds of stories like that. But really, he wondered if that was possible. He was sure that the Magic Tree had its own story with its own words. It had its own lyrics to its own song. 

But of course, everyone had something like that. 

Even from the soft clouds soaring over him and to the surrounding scenery of ocean within walking distance. He could just tell. These were all things that left an impression or story behind as well. Everything affected everything.

The same could be applied to people he knew. Minho was like the protective ball of fluff in the wide sky that shielded him from the sun. Minho was a cloud. Although, clouds could also be uncharacteristically powerful. For instance, a cumulonimbus cloud during a thunderstorm on a single day. Jisung doubted the accuracy of his description to Minho now.

But then there was also Chan. 

Chan was like the calming sway of a palm tree as it was rocked by life's journey in the wind. And yet it was more complicated than that. He was also like the thorny, leafless branches of a tree in winter. Edges so sharp it could hurt. Branches so vulnerable they could break. Were these two versions of Chan not just two sides to the same coin? It was his same friend in the end. But both left impressions that were startlingly different, depending on those who knew him as Bang Chan the Corrupted and those who simply knew him as... Chan.

It would be more accurate to say that there was not just one defining characteristic of either Chan or Minho. That wouldn't be fair otherwise. 

And of himself, he wondered too. Jisung could be a nice cloud if he wanted to. He could be a strong tree if he wanted to. He could even be a resilient flower if he wanted to. 

"I could be a strong flower," Jisung mumbled, repeating half of the words. No wait, maybe he already was a strong flower to some people. "But I could also be a cloud the next day. At the same time I'm a flower, or even a tree. But also, I'm a strong cloud if I wanted to be one."

Perhaps then, magic wasn't just one thing either. Seeing the Magic Tree could be a small source of strength and hope and motivation. Yet, at the end of the day, it comes down to the individual person to decide what to do with that source. Magic, after all, was a tool to achieve a means. It could be both used for cruel things and kind things. Two sides of the same coin.

Like Chan, and like anyone else. The real question is: how would Chan use his magic? 

"Define strong, Jisungie? Most people can't give you an answer to the term. If you ask me, I think you're a seaweed."

"A sea— wha—" Jisung looked up in front of him. There was the small pond of fresh water up ahead, and right next to it was a black-haired Witch crouching down and washing his face with a splash of it from his cupped hands. Not exactly something he envisioned would happen when first pursuing his academics at university. Had Jisung ventured that far off already? He was curious how much Minho had heard. Just the last part, hopefully.

"Good morning," Minho smiled gently and waved, almost too nonchalantly.

What a sly Witch. So basically that meant he heard everything. "I'm quite insulted. A seaweed?"

"Why? Just look at how it stubbornly washes up on the island. Seaweed is a relentless force, I'll give it that. It's a good quality. Would that be how you define strong?" Indeed, this confirmed he heard everything. "Or would you assert that being strong means being magically overpowering? How about being knowledgeable and studious? Or mature and being in control of one's emotions, with little mistakes while not letting their powers overtake them?" He was thinking out loud at this point. "I also wonder what being strong truly is."

Jisung kneeled by the closest side of the pond, opposite from Minho, dipping a pair of cupped hands beyond surface level. Doing the same as his friend, he began to rinse his face thoroughly to start off the day. "When you put it like that, there isn't much room for argument. Does that mean I annoy you like seaweed? Is that what you're getting at?" he joked.

"Not in the slightest, I do find your company enjoyable and always have," Minho let a laugh out in between some words. "But as for me maybe I'm like the seaweed at the bottom of the ocean, directionless and stagnant. What use am I if I have no clue what I'm doing?"

Jisung whined mid-face rinse, "Now you're just fishing for compliments, and you know that analogy is terrible. Seaweed plays an important role for the habitat. You're one of the best Witches in Levanin. If not, the best."

Minho eyed Jisung observantly. "Semi-correct. I cannot beat Channie as I am now. None of the students really can. That's just a fact we have to deal with, and... yeah. That's that."

The less experienced Witch hummed in agreement. "Guess so." It didn't take a prodigy to understand that there was more Minho was withholding. But he didn't press on.

"In all honesty, you could be the sun if you wanted to, Sungie. But that sounds overused, so I wanted to be original." Minho stood up, circling around the water to give Jisung a pat on the back before beginning to walk away, as if that was actually the only thing that was on his mind. "Meet me by the Side towards the west in a bit after you finish washing up. Magic isn't going to get us out of here by itself."

After two seconds or what felt like several, Jisung turned to face Minho's back. "Wait."

"Yes?" Minho did him the courtesy of facing him, already some ways off. 

"Your dreams. How are they?" That was awfully brave of him to ask. Jisung instantly regretted it.

"How are they?" Minho was perplexed, to say the least.

"Yeah," Jisung awkwardly explained, "like how have they been doing?" He hoped that clarified everything, although knowing the older Witch he would probably just pretend not to notice.

Minho rose a brow suspiciously. "You want me to disclose the contents of my brain during an unconscious state?"

"Not like that!" Jisung covered his eyes in embarrassment. "I don't need to know all those details nor do I want to. What I really meant was if they are.. you know... getting worse?"

It was something they were both avoiding during all the time they had spent on the island. They knew it well. It wasn't exactly like they were naive Witches riding on training wheels. This is why the more experienced Witch hesitated a bit before nodding to confirm Jisung's question. "It can't be helped," Minho reasoned. "We messed up, and now we have to pay the price. Part of being a Witch is understanding the dangers of spells and repercussions of one's own actions. We must own up to it, and it will get worse before it gets better." Minho cleared his throat before proceeding. "It will wear off eventually, anyway. I just don't know when."

Jisung kept his voice low, although he didn't quite know why. "Right." Maybe it was something he wasn't sure he should be prying into.

"And besides, I'll rest comfortably knowing the fact that Chan is most likely suffering the same routine as us." And there it was. Minho broke the invisible tension he didn't really know was there, and Jisung was relieved.

The key words Minho said were: most likely. And it rung in Jisung's head like a pesky, ugly truth. In other words, even Minho didn't know the extent of Chan's power. As in, there was a huge possibility that Chan probably dispelled himself of this torture that they were currently experiencing.

That was the effect of Twisted Nightmare that was in Jisung's Spell Room, the result being a restless rest with no near end in sight. It had the power to show the target their memories that they didn't want to be reminded of while they slept. Their quarrel with Chan while attempting to snatch his spell book ended in absolute and total failure. The dreams would slowly get worse after they started off small and normal. But the sad reality was those weren't dreams in the slightest. They were undoubtedly real, and it was only a matter of time before they amplified in intensity. Distorted and all.

Jisung never asked Minho about what he dreamt of, and Minho didn't ask about his either. It was probably better that way. Admittedly, Jisung did push some buttons here and there about Minho's feelings, but it was out of casual bickering and fun, and he made sure Minho had no problems with it. In no way did he want to overstep his boundaries. 

Nothing more needed to be said between the two. It was a mutual understanding. One that they both knew in the silence of the moment. 

"I'll be off, then. There isn't much required for the Locator Spell."

Jisung waved him off, being left alone once Minho was out of sight. He continued rinsing his face and eventually worked his way down and around his body, even ridding some extra dirt that was already starting to stick to his clothes from the morning breeze.

"This is the... fourth day?" he whispered his thought out loud. In all honesty, he was beginning to lose sight of home. The only remnants of life back in civilization was what little the dreams were providing. In a weird way, that had to be a good thing. Jisung was getting too used to life on the island, and it was scaring him. He often wondered how Little Witch Jeongin was doing.

Jeongin was like a sibling to him and Minho. He often visited Jisung's residence and had shown Jeongin around when the little Novice started off in Levanin. In fact, Jeongin hated being called Little Witch Jeongin, but it was more of a tradition to call the first years that. 

Felix was another friend he dearly missed. With his warm, low voice and all those fun conversations the four of them had multiple times. He tried not to think about his friends.

But Jisung was fairly sure that university life had gone back to some sort of normalcy with classes resuming. Chan was technically under the jurisdiction of the Student District, meaning any problems he and any other students caused would be for Headmistress Hyebin to sort out. However, Jisung figured that given the surprising rate at which the word of Bang Chan the Corrupted spread, even the Mayor was forced to get involved to save his own neck. With all options considered, there was no other choice than for Minho and him to file a report to the Council themselves. If they hadn't, they would have possibly acquired a red target on their backs from multiple leaders of Levanin.

As he was still kneeling, the reflection of his face in the pond served as a reminder of the inevitable reality. He scooped up a small amount of water to then thoroughly rinse his mouth and eventually spit out.

There was no guarantee he would be welcomed back with open arms. There was no guarantee that other students would not hate him for associating with Chan. There was no guarantee he would keep his home. There was no guarantee of anything. All he did know was that living on the island was relatively peaceful. Deep down, he knew going back to Levanin was what he needed to do, but at what cost was the question. Being too comfortable in a stagnant place wasn't how things exactly worked. Magic was never still like that.

Stagnant? Wasn't that the word Minho used earlier?

Jisung splashed at his reflection in irritation and rose up from his position, ambling for the westward side of the island. The general pathway mostly consisted of untrimmed grass that had progressively been squashed down by the two Witches' constant walking day after day. He could simply teleport there, but his energy should be used wisely while he still had the determination and strength. Before he would eventually give up, even if he hated to admit it. He knows he will give up in the end, if he remains stagnant. It was hard to explain, but he could feel it in his bones weighing down on him when they first arrived. He was sure Minho could feel it too. It was impossible not to have. The magic in the air was much more thin here than back on the mainland. A simple way to counter that or boost a spell's potency would be with active ingredients. But...

If only it were that simple.

It was all ridiculous. If Jisung could travel back in time (although not possible) and tell his past self that in the future he would be stranded on a deserted island, he would definitely have laughed right in his own future self's face and then offered himself some bed rest or something. Being an adult was hard. To think that not so long ago life was much easier. To think that his best friends were dating and classes were fun and life was good and things just made sense. But then life happens. Suddenly your decisions with magic carry more burden. Suddenly things get complicated. Suddenly there are no happy endings. There is just life, and its roller coaster of momentary happiness and the overwhelming amount of obstacles. 

Wow, that was dark. But he was used to it by now. Right?

While Jisung kept navigating through the Sanctuary and passing sporadic views of orange blossoms, he could feel the grass patches beginning to get more scarce. There was also the lessening number of tree stumps in his peripheral vision. And soon enough, after pushing some giant leaves out of the way, there was a big clearing in front of him. 

Seaweed Side.

Not the best name. Maybe later they should take a vote to change that. Not that a vote works with two people.

He could hear the sound of crashing waves along the sloping sand. Barely inching a bit down on the beach, Jisung's body eased in tension that he didn't even know he had been holding within. What made this area unique was the surprising collection of seaweed covering a small splotch of the ocean's blue hues in the distance. Some of it, or a lot of it depending on the tide, would find its way washed up on shore. Whether by pure luck or calculated genius on Minho's part, it was currently low tide.

The rise and fall of water along the coast's edge was sure to lull anyone's train of thought a bit. This was the closest thing to a paradise. But he didn't belong here. Jisung groaned and gently plopped onto his back, letting the warm rays of sun hit his face while his muscles succumbed and sunk a bit into the soft ground. 

He could wait for Minho here. It's not like he could do anything at the moment, anyway. From above, the cotton-candy-looking clouds floated about, without a care in the world for the two Witches stuck on the uneventful land mass. Levanin was moving on without them during this cold season, meanwhile it felt like the sun here was freezing him solid in time.

If that wasn't irony. 

He guessed a couple minutes had passed. One by one the clouds had been eclipsing the sun, not that he was counting, briefly giving him momentary shade before drifting away. It was kind of hard to tell time, given the whole stranded far away from home thing. As if he had an automatic boredom switch, involuntarily flailing his arms sluggishly, the next thing he knew he was creating sand angels with his upper body while his legs were also equally putting in work. Suddenly it was the strangest feeling of deja vu. Although, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The ground beneath him was more tan in color, not white. Oh, that's right, the Mayor. "The Mayor." Jisung rolled his eyes rather obnoxiously, recalling certain events that he literally relived this morning in a dream. That was about four days ago in reality. 

They really needed to get off this island.

Another brief shade from a cloud. Jisung had a vague memory of Minho, commenting to him about how clouds looked like Chan's messy hair in the morning. 

He tried holding back a grin, before bursting into a small fit of laughter. Perhaps in actuality the cloud was actually Chan and the tree was actually Minho. Who knows.

Truly magical.

The world was created by a series of Levitation Spells, after all. Even gravity itself was technically an old incantation that anchored Witches down to safety. Before, there were Witches living in space. Or really, that was just a passed-down myth. A joke of sorts. However, the gravity part was mostly true. Levitation Spells existed both in land and air. For starters with the amassed water molecules in the sky, forming what all Witches know as clouds. In older times, drought was much more vastly prevalent, so the eventual fix was a cycle that redistributed water across all lands. How life-altering. There was also, obviously, gravity and the pushing and pulling of tides. All of these were forms of levitation, in theory and practice.

It was Magical History 101. Magic was just a fundamental part of life.

"What are you doing there?"

Jisung turned his head, and after the adjustment of his vision from the unblocking and blocking of the sun, he could see the features of what looked like Minho. "Having a good time—" This was interrupted by his spotting of a pebble in one of Minho's hands and a twig in the other. "What's that? Are we picking up sticks and skipping rocks? I didn't get the memo."

"It's time for the Locator Spell," Minho kicked Jisung's leg with hardly any strength, gesturing for him to stand up.

Jisung did, rather slowly. "Aren't you tired?"

Minho poked fun, "Tired? We just woke up. Don't tell me you want to go back to your little Twisted Nightmare dilemma." 

"The magic," he yawned, "in the air, I think it's having an effect on me."

"What are you talking about?"

He looked at Minho, almost surprised. "You don't feel it?"

"Am I supposed to feel something?" The response sounded sincere, and in no way did it seem like he was lying. 

Wow, Jisung guessed that was the power of a Rank S Witch. Then again, Minho did have a total of three Familiars, which definitely was not normal by any definition. "Never mind that, so the Locator Spell?"

"There are many types of Locator Spells, but this is the only easy one I remember. Once I'm finished with it, then we can confirm if the island is indeed a fake or not. If my theory is correct, it will help us undo all of this and find a way out of here. We at least need some sort of starting line, and this is all I could come up with." 

Jisung nodded somewhat doubtingly, "If you say so." He still didn't think Chan was capable of creating this island. There was just no way. A Witch would need a lifetime of experience to do something like this. Not to mention the range of studies from plantlife knowledge and land formation without indirectly causing an earthquake, volcano, tsunami, or fracture in the tectonic plates. There was also the unquestionable mastery and technique of such subjects that needed to be noted. Forbidden magic was definitely powerful, but it was no match for experience. This was something Chan clearly did not have. He was merely Rank A at university. Yet the Rank S Witch in front of him was going against all of this logic? If they couldn't prove that this was an artificial island, then they were basically at a dead end. And they would have to suffer here alone, forever.

"Don't believe me?" Minho jabbed the stick down on the sand, dragging it across the surface in a curved path. Manuevering his arm to his liking, he finished forming half of an oval-like shape, then gliding the twig up and down to create a wave-like streak in the bottom portion. 

"Playing sand castle, are we? I thought you were serious about wanting to leave this place."

"I am, Jisungie," was spoken sweetly, ignoring the passive aggressiveness in Jisung's tone. Minho poked holes into the sand, creating dozens of small dots entirely around the oval shape. Up and to the left of that was an empty space where he drove a straight, horizontal line across. 

"Since when were you right-handed?"

"I'm ambidextrous," Minho switched the twig to his other hand to prove his skill in using both arms before continuing. At the edge of the horizontal line, he branched out in an obtuse angle, then brought it back down in a slanted direction to complete a triangle-looking figure. With his index finger, he quickly erased some of it and added or took off some jagged edges. To the left and bottom of that, he started anew, doing another big curve.

"Is that a duck's head?" 

Minho played along, "If you squint long enough, sure." 

Jisung finally figured out what Minho was doing. He was drawing the world map. "Oh, it's the Niss continent. It kind of looks like a deformed puzzle piece. Are you sure this is right?"

"Positive."

"The accuracy is kind of..."

"It doesn't need to be drawn to scale or precise in every aspect, Sungie. As long as the Location Spell recognizes it's the world map, then there isn't much to it. Professor Drayne would ramble on and on about the detailed work that goes into Locator Spells." He finished the shape and started a new one directly at the center of all the pictures so far. "Which I understand, I mean it is his specialty and all, I respect that. But I do find it a little excessive at times, especially in our case, and if I can simply do less for more and achieve the same result in the end then that's good too in its own way, right? It's not like I'm going to master navigation maps in the foreseeable future."

"Maybe I'll take his class next year, you know, assuming I can even continue enrollment at Levanin," he joked. "Also assuming I can even get back there."

Minho finished up the weird shape with three tails. "Finished with this one, just need one more."

"Was that the continent of Mynn?"

"No comment, I know it's terrible, I'm not an artist okay." With the last continent remaining, Minho quickly drew a large blob shape. "That was easy." He ended it off by poking in many more dots everywhere. Literally everywhere. "And those are all the hundreds of islands or something, but it's done. The idea is what counts."

"So you have the continents of Umine, Deyis, Niss, Mynn, and Rukene. Now what?"

"Now, I chant the appropriate spell and wherever this pebble lands is the exact location of where we currently are." Minho stood up, after tossing the pebble and twig aside and away from the map.

Extending his palm in front of him directly at the world map he drew, Minho started the chant, his hand glowing a bright yellow, " _Recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus_ —" The air around them felt full with magic, and the strong wind kicked up at Jisung, forcing him to squint from its overwhelming presence.

It resided. And then, nothing.

Jisung eyed the pebble, which didn't budge at all to Minho's words. "Is that it?" Jisung was either right about Chan, or something was wrong with the spell. In this case, he dared to be wrong. He desperately wanted something. Anything.

"Let me try again." This time, Minho extended both of his emitting hands out, one toward the drawing and one toward the small rock. " _Recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus._ "

The same result. No sparkle around the pebble. No juice. No whimsical action, other than the breeze, which did send him aback a little bit. Jisung whistled expectedly, almost a little disappointed. Disappointed that he may have been right. "Nothing happened, Minho. Are you sure you memorized the spell correctly?"

Flustered, Minho just stared at the pebble in confusion. "I think it's because we're on an artificial island. No pebble movement means no location, and no location means it's not registered on the world map."

"Or maybe the drawing isn't precise."

"It doesn't have to be precise, trust me."

"What exactly did the instructions say if there was no location found?"

"Nothing. It merely said the pebble shall move towards the pinpointed mark," he paused. "Which means if it doesn't move," Minho started to beam, "then my theory is correct—" 

Jisung wasn't buying it. "Here give me your hands, let's try again." Was that it? They would dedicate their path to escape off of this nothingness hint, for who knows how many days? Weeks? What if it was a waste of time?

"The same result will repeat, you realize this, yes?"

"Just give me your hands, please."

Minho did as told, and once the two joined hands, "Fine, repeat after me, _recurrat astri locus_ ," he spoke slowly.

" _Recurrut astri locus_ —"

"Recurrat, not recurrut," Minho corrected. 

"Oh." Jisung nodded, "Okay, let's go."

With their eyes closed, they both started at the same time, both their hands gleaming brilliantly, _"Recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus, recurrat astri locus!"_

The air shook as they stood their ground, magic swirling all around them. After it passed, Jisung took a peek down, and much to his dismay, the pebble did not move. At all. 

Minho picked up the twig and pebble. "See? Like I thought, Chan created a—"

"No," Jisung knew that was kind of rude, but he couldn't stop himself. 

"What do you mean, no? You saw it yourself."

"It's not possible, Minho. We have to think of this realistically! Chan is by himself on this one! The whole city is against him, he has no allies right now. He isn't capable of doing something like that, and you know it!"

"Jisung—"

"Are you sure you did everything right!?"

Minho clenched the pebble in his hand. "I'm positive."

"Maybe we need to redo the world map—"

"Jisung! There is nothing wrong with the map. There is nothing wrong with the pebble, or the twig, or my magic," his voice was stern and unwavering. "Just trust me, please."

"There's so many possibilities that could be interfering with the spell, Minho! How do you not see that?"

"Are you really arguing over a pebble, Jisung? I have full confidence in this, so why can't you trust me?"

Jisung shook his head, not wanting to hear another word. "I listened to you about Chan, and look where we are now. I believed in him, and look what he did to us! Outcast in the middle of no where! It's been four days, and you ask me to trust you!? We aren't getting out of here!" he yelled, frustrated with this. Frustrated with all of it.

"Chan is—"

"You said so yourself, you said that Chan was currently not the same Chan that you knew."

"Yes, but—"

"Why don't we just say it? Your feelings for Chan are blocking your judgement as a Witch, Minho! You want to see the good in him because you personally know him the best. I'll admit I wanted to do the same. But it's caused us so many mistakes!" he finally snapped. He didn't even know where all this emotion was coming from. But he could not take it back. Suddenly Jisung's heart twisted like it was hit with poison, like the poison he spewed out. Jisung could visibly see the hurt in Minho's eyes, glossing over his pupils.

A single tear rolled down Minho's cheek, with an unreadable yet pained expression.

Jisung reached out a hand. "I didn't mean it like tha—"

"Is that what you think?" Minho glared, and it scorned Jisung's skin like a stinging fire. "You think I'm so incompetent as a W—," his voice was starting to give out, and the tears were starting to flow one after the next. "As a Witch. You agree just like everybody else, that I would let that... That I can't tell the difference from my own Locator Spell? That secretly I am blinded by something so silly I can't even perform magic anymore? Everyone hates us, but now even you are turning on me, and I just end up looking like some humiliating fool with lovesick problems."

"That's not what I said—"

"It's what you meant!" Minho rose his voice in anger. "You couldn't be farther from the truth. What happened with Chan has nothing to do with this or that. I'm not wrong about my damn spell, Jisung!" He threw the pebble and twig near the water. "I can't believe you."

"Minho..."

"You can have Seaweed Side. I don't want to see your face at the Sanctuary. I don't want to see your face at Coconut Aisle. I don't want to see you anywhere." 

The oncoming wave swallowed up the pebble and twig on the sand as Minho walked away.

High tide was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically what I learned about myself from making this chapter is that I'm a visual kind of person when it comes to figuring out a story's setting. If you were confused on what the world map looks like [here](https://i.imgur.com/2BHKxg0.jpg) is a rough sketch of what Minho drew into the sand (poor quality oops). The red dot on Rukene is Levanin. Mynn is the "Lesser Continent" while the rest are the "Greater Continents."


	3. Welcome to the Beguiling Bookwyrm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One, in which Minho has a dream memory of meeting Chan for the first time.

The Shopping District was like a labyrinth made entirely from stone, a city within its own city.

Minho had hopped up the stone stairs one at a time through his little jumps, visibly puffing once landing triumphantly atop. Another stone road filled with more stores! How many sets of stairs had he climbed already, only to be surprised again and again by the sheer amount of Witches strolling by with their friends and families and the laughter that hugged the air as well as the unending strips of paved pathways that lit up beautifully while interconnecting like a vast, enchanting universe. It was so wonderful, so mesmerizing, he hoped it never ended.

Decorative strings with elaborate shapes and images, which Minho vaguely remembered are called paper garlands (try saying that five times rapidly), pinned to the shops and attached to most the others, crisscrossing in warm arrangements like a friendly game of Cat's Cradle. Hand-made paper planes were soaring quite high, some green while others purple, riding with the wind's current. Excitement arose in his chest all over, eyes crinkling and teeth flashing, like everything was so new and just waiting for him. Because it was. His legs were quick to make the dash for him while he mimicked a plane's wings with his arms for fun, running along the complex and passing multiple levitating signs near his head to their respective shops that read as Potions & Cookies, Herbs & Lotions, The Broken Vial, or on the opposite side that read Ayana's Alchemy Art, Siren's Songs, and The Pretty Wisp. 

Pretty. Wisp. 

That stuck out. He altered his course of direction towards that one, the one with the symbol of a faint body of flames and its ghostly trails on the large glass window, navigating through the crowd of people and pushing the dark-tint glass door in. A little jingle noise rung above his ears.

An unbothered cashier sat with the latest issue of Witch's Weekly magazine in her hands, glued closely to her face and not paying his presence any mind. Minho looked around in awe, the fabric of the building's walls and floors being a deep and dark red of velvet. To his left and to his right were unique, individual jars of high-quality wax resting on dark red, cylinder pedestals varying in size. The Pretty Wisp was, in fact, a candle shop. On the walls were built-in glass displays, only covered by velvet curtains. 

His legs moved of their own free will again, skipping straight to the counter. "What's behind the curtains!" Minho shouted with all the wonder of the world, as politely possible as he could, eyes glinting in fascination.

The cashier lowered the magazine in front of her face, revealing her bewilderment and an astonishing aqua-green hair with slight blue tints barely touching her shoulders. "Thought I heard something?" She fixed her gaze back to the magazine. "Must be the Fae voices again."

"No! I'm right here!" he assured.

"How odd. Apparently the voices are unnaturally persistent today." This time, she lowered the Witch's Weekly down on the counter, leaning over it from her spot and noticing someone much shorter in the room for the first time. "Oh! Thank magic! Well hello there, when did you come in?"

"Just now," the edges of his lips perked up. "Your hair is like the ocean!"

She rose an eyebrow, then proceeded to take out a hand mirror conveniently from behind the counter. One close look and she screamed, almost dropping the thing. "What in the Fool's Fire was that?"

"How did you get your hair so green?" he asked with the tilt of his head, very curious to get his own hair like that one day. 

"This isn't the first time it's happened, actually it happens more than you think. Although, this is my first time going green," she brushed off the situation with a light chuckle. "It must have been an accident— I've been working too much with candles in the back these past couple days. There's been an increasing demand for certain candles recently, not that I'm complaining," she looked at herself in the small reflection again. "You never know when you might accidentally dip your hair into an unset Fae's wax while sleeping on the job, unintentionally letting it spread through some carelessness. It's really such a gamble, those things, they have a mind of their own at midnight. At least I'll smell like a summer's breeze on vacation day by the Olde Port for several more weeks." The cashier playfully scrunched up her hair, "You know what? It actually doesn't look that bad if you ask me. I can work with this."

"Seaweed," Minho giggled, "It looks like seaweed."

Giving one last look in the reflection as if taking his disclosure into account, she placed the mirror down accepting her defeat, expression amusingly blank on her sharply-defined face. "It does look awfully a lot like seaweed, doesn't it?"

The two of them glanced at one another, suddenly stifling their sounds deep within their throats, before they eventually couldn't contain their laughter anymore. Minho grabbed at his sides as if he had a stomachache, wheezing out, "I—It does!"

She did the same, gasping for air, smacking down her palms onto the counter uncontrollably, face reddening with every passing second. "Stop, stop, it hurts to laugh." 

It did somewhat stop, approximately twenty seconds later. She did not seem to be a stranger to mistakes, as it did seem to be the case. A lot. 

Eventually, the atmosphere calmed to a suitable volume, every now and then the laughing fit threatening to kick-start once more, just needing a moment's weakness to catch its victims off guard. The cashier wiped away a happy tear that had formed from the over-stimulation of harsh cackling, "I never learn, do I?"

"I like it," he stated proudly, smile unfaltering, perhaps widening. 

"Me too," she merrily jeered, "My name's Jonaensi, some people call me Nae, others call me Naensi, but," she remained standing from her stool chair, "What brings you to my shop? Where are your parents?"

Minho shrugged, "Don't know."

"Is that so? How convenient of you not to know," she deadpanned, obviously hinting that he was doing it on purpose. "Well, I can't have you wandering around by yourself—"

He skipped towards the covered glass displays, ready to yank the golden tassel to reveal what was hiding inside. "What's behind the curtains!" 

Jonaensi's eyes widened, and she ran after him just in time, "Wait, wait, wait! You have to be careful, I can't have an accident in here or it comes out of my paycheck."

He immediately halted, nasty guilt creeping in, shyly looking down at his shoes and muttering lowly, "Sorry."

She chuckled softly, "It's okay, it's okay," then pointed at his hand and the tassel. "You have to be gentle with it, things break easily."

Nodding vigorously, "Things break easily." This was his way of saying he wouldn't do it again without permission.

"You can pull the curtain, but gently," she instructed. It had taken her quite the amount of time to construct up a fancy show of a curtain like that around the displays by herself. Showing someone was always a fun part of the job. It kind of is why the curtain was there anyway. Sending him off without seeing what was behind would defeat the purpose. 

His eyes lit up, grinning from ear to ear. As told, he walked up to it extremely cautiously, almost too cautiously, stiffly grabbing the golden tassel and pulling on it ever so slowly, like it were his greatest foe. While doing that, the curtain itself started retracting to the left, gradually showing the contents behind the glass. "Woaahh!" he yelled enthusiastically.

Now, what lay there were candle jars that were even more beautiful than the ones sitting on the pedestals. There was something different about the ones behind the glass. The ones out in the open looked ordinary in comparison, very much like how normal candles often look. However, the ones inside the glass... sparkled a lot! Brightly! In no particular order, one of them had a combination of pink and white whirls and dazzled splendidly. Another a dark blue, creepily glowing in dark cuts all over, with a single black splice meeting in the middle. One was a swampy green, with two taupe-colored circles on each side. Probably would not be his first choice, but still cool. At a glance was an innocent looking purple jar, with pink sprinkled and meshed on top. They were all much more tempting to buy and piqued his interest. He read the front names of each jar aloud, incredibly pricey as they were, but labelled from left to right in the top row as, "Unicorn's Rainbow, Ogre's Sweat, Minotaur's Horn, Blue Poison Eggs, Rapunzel's Hair."

Naensi rolled her eyes, being visibly annoyed, "I never did like Rapunzel from the Niss continent, that arrogant Witch and her walking Tower. Who does she think she is, the Baba Yaga? Her real name is Ryu, but apparently she claims that saying it out loud activates a Curse preventing her from leaving the Tower an extra year. If you ask me, she's just lazy. In the end, lots of drama, it was all a lie, and she stole my boyfriend."

"That sounds terrible!" 

"I know right! Can't stand her."

Minho tilted his head, confused, poking at the glass display. "But does it actually have Rapunzel's Hair—"

Jonaensi cleared her throat, "Long story. You may continue."

Looking at the bottom row, he read those out loud as well, "Petrified Thunder Slug Slime, Flying Squid Ink, Tempest Lion's Trimmed Claws, Ice Rose Nectar, and Mint Chocolate Chip."

"That last one is definitely the most weird," she shuddered in disgust.

"Can I purchase one!"

She was quick to reject, "No, no no. You have to be at least ten years old to buy one of my candles. I don't exploit money from young children, especially ones that walk into my store by themselves. It's my policy."

"That's not a rule? I've never heard of that!" he protested.

"Well yes, that would be because I just made it up. Right now." At least she was honest.

"How do you know I'm not ten years old?" Minho asked.

"Is that a challenge?" Naensi mused. "How about this, then? I propose a little game." Another fun part of her job was revealing her secret weapon. "I can prove that you aren't ten years old, and once that is proven you have to accept my terms of me not selling you a magic candle. You are free to purchase an ordinary candle if you would like," she gestured with her arm to the plain ones on the pedestals up front. "However, if I cannot prove your age, then I will gladly give you a magic candle for free!"

"Really?" his mouth opened wide in shock. He did like games. And he was so delighted to hear he had a chance at having a candle. A magic one. For free. It was free, right? "I want the slime!"

Jonaensi laughed. "It's not actually slime that you can play with. It's been made into wax."

"Oh!" He thought long and hard, small fingers of his scratching his head in contemplation, humming. "I'll take the rainbow!"

"We have a deal then," she grabbed his little hand and shook it. "What is your name again?"

"It's—"

"Actually don't worry about that! I can guess that too," she gleefully avowed, running behind the counter like she were the little kid in the room and not the adult, rummaging through some junk. "Come over here."

He did as was expected, leaving the close proximity of his beloved magical jars behind and stopping at the counter in anticipation. "What is it?"

Some seconds of searching later, and some clanging noises of glass that sounded dangeorus, she placed something on the counter that was completely wrapped all over in a fabric cloth. Nae dramatically scanned the room for any sign of someone else, peeking high and low, then lowered her voice to a soft whisper, "Now don't go telling anyone this, okay? It's our little secret."

His eyes widened. "Shhhh," he placed a finger to his mouth, whispering, "I can keep secrets."

"Good!" Jonaensi threw off the cloth, with it landing somewhere unimportant, unveiling a pitch-black jar of candle wax. "This is my favorite candle. It took me years and years of research and tortuous studying and lots of traveling and some rather lonely nights of crying myself to sleep, but I finally created it. I created Fool's Fire!"

Indeed, the label on the jar did say Fool's Fire. "Woaahh! A fire made a fool."

She shrugged, "Something like that, why not."

"But it's not as cool as the other ones over there!" He pointed to the glass display. "The others are more shiny and more pretty and creative and stuff. Why would I want to buy this one?"

"Ah, young Witch, but that's where you are wrong." She tapped the jar, as if to make a point. "You see, looks can be deceiving. The magic candles you speak of surely have their own amazing effects when smelled, like suddenly giving you an energy boost to start your day, or suddenly giving you the ability to sing without prior vocal lessons." Naensi put a hand near her mouth, "Don't tell the Siren's Songs shop next door I said that," she muttered. "But naturally, it goes without saying these effects are only temporary and fade away fairly quick."

"That's so cool!"

"It is, but you see, young Witch," she turned the lid of the jar a couple times, popping it off, "This candle can give you a friend, and friends are irreplaceable."

Minho's high energy receded slightly, hardly noticeable. "I guess that's cool," was mumbled comparatively bluntly. Perhaps he was a little disappointed at this candle.

Jonaensi smiled warmly, catching on to his below-average energy up until now. "It really is, you have no idea. I know it's not what you expected, but here, why don't you do the honors and try calling out to it?"

"Call out to it?" He tilted his head, intrigued. What was he supposed to do? Talk to himself? That's kind of weird with someone else in the room, but if that's what it takes. "Hello?" Minho had called out timidly, growing embarrassed at this sudden task.

Nothing happened.

"Well don't be shy now! Keep trying," she instructed, "You have to really, really, really want your friend to come."

Minho tapped the jar multiple times with an index finger, allured by this sudden and supposed concept of a friend of his. "Hello, helloo, hellooooo?" he echoed in various tones, attempting every new form of greeting he could think of. 

"Usually takes a while, don't fret. Maybe our friend is busy."

He clicked his tongue. This was taking too long, so Minho grabbed the jar from her hands and shoved it close to his cheek, eyeing it dangerously close. "Are you my friend?"

She rapidly hopped over the counter, trying to put some distance between his face and the jar. "Not so close, young Witch!"

He pulled back. And then, it happened. The candle's wick set aflame just as she pulled it away from his face in time, now both of them holding the jar. The fire was purple-black, almost taking up the entire circumference of the jar, but the most cool part of all was that it was transparent! It grew two dots for eyes and a line as a mouth, almost like the ones typically seen in cartoons. "Yoo-hoo! I believe I was summoned to this fine establishment that is The Pretty Wisp. And—" It looked down at Minho. "Well what do we have here? Is this a candle-maker intern of yours, Jonaensi? Seems rather young, don't you think?" the flame spoke high-pitched.

Minho's eyes widened. This was nothing like he expected. "Fire can talk!?"

"Hey Ruby, you summoned pretty fast! Long time no see," Naensi winked. "As much as I would love to catch up, I'm sure you have more pressing things to get to. But as for this young Witch here," she looked at Minho, "Let's just say we're in the midst of a little game, with a free candle of mine on the line. I need you to tell me his name and age, if you would be so kind."

"Ahhh, I understand the situation now," the flame, known as Ruby, sung out. "That shall be very, very easy. I know of this Witch here. It's all very familiar to me."

"You don't know me? I think," Minho let out a bubbly giggle, "We haven't met before! So I win."

"On the contrary, young Witch, your name is..." Pause for damatic effect. "Lee Minho!" the flame guessed correctly. "Also, your age is seven. Am I wrong?"

"Woaahh," Minho clapped, nearly dropping the jar, but luckily Jonaensi caught it. "You're good! How did you know that!?"

"'Tis a secret that I cannot reveal," Ruby explained, "If I gave it away just like that, then that would take the fun out of it."

Minho stomped a single foot to the ground, hands at his sides, "No fun." It was kind of hard to be taken seriously, as he was still smiling, totally enamored by this flame. He had never seen a talking fire in his whole life. Then again, has anyone? Not to his knowledge.

"You know, Minho," Jonaensi's bragging voice activated, "Ruby is a special kind of flame," she gushed. "Ruby will never leave unless I tell her to."

"Oh stop, you're making me blush!" the fire in the jar professed. "Okay, keep going."

"Ruby's fire body cannot be blown away, it's basically an unquenchable fire design that I—"

He took that as a challenge and blew on the fire, the flame quickly dissipating and being put out with only a lonesome wick remaining in the matter of half a second. Ruby had disappeared during the candle owner's mid-sentence, and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "Ruby left," he stated the obvious.

Something flicked in Jonaensi's eyes that he couldn't quite make out. Was it shock that he was able to do it? Was it anger because Ruby vanished? Was it... fear? "I—Impossible, no one has ever been able to— How did you—?" She shook the jar, "Ruby? You're not playing hooky with me again, are you? Ruby, can you come back?"

It took a moment of pause, yet the passing time of nothingness was very evident. Either way, waiting or not, their friend was not coming back. It wasn't the same thing as when Ruby was first being called out. Jonaensi made that much super clear through her surprise and subtle worry unmistakenly drenched into her voice. Minho could feel it.

"I'm so sorry! Did I do something wrong? Was I not supposed to?" Can't he just bring Ruby back? If he was allowed to, he would do it immediately. The anxiousness was getting to him, not wanting to have caused some sort of damage or negativity that he could not simply take back with a sorry. If this situation was something else entirely, something not magic related, then maybe a fast apology would work. Magic, however, was not so simple. He had learned that very early on, even before this. "Did I... ban Ruby?"

"No," Nae said, then her face quickly snapped to the realization that Minho probably substituted that word for murder. "No! You didn't. I promise. It's just that— I didn't think this was possible. You?"

"Me?"

A sly smile crept on her face, and again, he could not tell what she was thinking. Was she... proud of him? That glimmer in her eye threw him off. Jonaensi spoke with the most clear intent, more than anything she has ever said prior to this point, "You are just a troublemaker for all us Witches, aren't you?" Weirdly enough, this sounded like a compliment. "Why don't I fetch your parents? I would love to speak with them," she bent down, capping the lid and trying to put away the jar back behind the counter. 

"So I'm not in trouble? Ruby is safe?" Minho was relieved.

"Yes, of course! Ruby is safe, I can guarantee," Nae chimed in. "But I do want to have a word with your—"

A bell rung through the shop. 

Once she looked up from behind the counter, there was an obvious absence of another Witch. Minho was long gone. "Or... not."

Why would he allow his parents to find him and cut all the fun so short? They were probably angry he wandered off, and the more he thought about it they were most likely looking for his whereabouts in this very moment through some sort of active measures. In the best scenario, before he eventually does get caught, he might as well take advantage of this time while the day was still lively. These were the thoughts of a young Lee Minho, who curiously continued his exploration of the Shopping District.

Amongst the many other shops at his sides, a unique name of The Dew Drop, which judging by its window image of a watered plant, he guessed was a place specializing in gardening. Quite a well-respected skill where he was from. Magical Gardening, make no mistake, did require the most attentive care and eyes. Couldn't have a Crooked Witch-Eating Plant devouring a portion of its owner's magic and burping a hole of magical residue into the ceiling again. Upon closer inspection, he was beginning to figure out what Witches of Levanin enjoyed. Next to it, a place known as Haunted Hats with its smoky and spooky head-covering image, presumably was a hot spot judging by the line of people waiting to get in. Why an eerie place like that was popular he didn't want to find out. From what he could see, there were about a dozen windows that showed off their mannequin displays, such as Splendid Attire strategically right by the False Robe shop, yet the Drowsy Drapes for nap assistance down the curve of the street provided some nice competition along with Sleepy Slippers. 

There was still much that needed exploring. It was as if the Shopping District never ended, continuously twisting and turning and branching off into several other irregular pathways that would eventually divide further and further. Yet the rumbling of voices from passing bystanders readily played in his ears, a constant assurance that this area was really what he needed. It wasn't an overwhelming feeling he dreaded. Quite the opposite. Very full of life, for lack of better phrasing.

From the corners of his eyes, down the curved path, he could spot odd shapes hovering and ascending above all the stone shops he has yet to pass. If he blinked, he would have missed it undoubtedly. And regretfully. His body gravitated towards them, as if they were a sign showing him the correct way around the district, as opposed to some intersections he could have taken already. Minho zigzagged around pedestrians, like if it were a race. The taps of his shoes against hard ground were drowned out by the voices, but he enjoyed it. Enjoyed the noise. 

Pinks and reds in the sky, Minho analyzed as he got closer. These eccentric patterns traveling above his head were like bubbles, ready to pop or fly far away. If he reached out, he could almost touch some. Hold them in his hand, if he stretched farther and farther. And then, soon enough, it became clearer to him like an alignment of the celestial moons' light pouring over him on a partly-sunny day.

Faint vibrations against string.

He halted his motions and limbs altogether, refusing to shift away. Minho's dark pupils grew in disbelief at the enticing music in front of him. All the other Witches around him faded into the background, like muted static. Time almost seemed to slow down. It was just him, and the image in front of him that was engraving itself into his mind, to remember forever. The hands strummed along, one hand flexing their skillful dance against the strings, another gently grasping the neck. Before him, merely a couple footsteps away, was an adult man that emerged from behind passing Witches. He was in tattered clothes and wore a single solemn expression, too busy playing his song as he sat on the Shopping District's five-pointed star fountain. Too busy to face his audience of one Witch, that one Witch being Minho.

The plucked string instrument produced a nostalgic sound. Made entirely of wood, with its deep round back enclosing a hollow cavity, and a strange yet refined rose depiction directly on the front's center. The pink and red bubbles ballooned out of the instrument in unorthodox shapes, streams of twinkling magic following close behind. Some bubbles were in the shapes of stars. Some crescents. Some deformed in ways he has yet to imagine. But they were beautiful. With each brush against strings, with each occasional series of low-to-high chord progressions like a masterpiece of art crafted in real time, his song brought beauty to reality from a simple stroke of creation. Bubbles of magic spun around the fountain, engulfing Minho in a whirlpool of luminous essence. The lute's body firmly attached and connected to the retracting strings, coming together as one in a pretty vision. The music was undeniably one of happiness, one of warmness. Still, there was something off about it, deep in structure. Almost like a vague hint of hardship, perhaps caused by a dissonance in two disharmonious strings. So difficult to notice at first glance, yet the clashing notes intricately woven in created a sort of tension in his soul. This was done on purpose. Yet it was so alluring, like a magnet tugging at his whole being. The song had a painted layer of troubling contemplation that stuck out, only if you were really listening. If you weren't, then it was a happy piece of art. 

Except it wasn't just a happy piece of art. Was it a song of sadness? A song of sorrow and longing? Melancholic, almost. 

No, that wasn't quite the word. It was kind but also despairing. Like gearing up for a fight you knew you were going to lose.

Minho could feel it, pulling deep in his heart. Stirring something up. Something that was familiar to him, but maybe just barely out of his grasp. The sudden dips and rises in progression, the chords vibrating in his chest, taking him on a wild rollercoaster ride. It was impossible to explain the way it moved him, the way it almost brought him to tears. It was beautiful. It was a fragile thing.

A song of importance, unlike what he was used to, he could tell. What did it mean? He wished to know more.

The man on the fountain gradually allowed his story to fade gently as he looked up, immediately spotting a captivated Minho. His lute struck a final string, and the bubbles dispersed, drifting off in unpredictable routes. Away from the Shopping District, where perhaps maybe someone else would listen. Listen to the adult's story.

Minho stood there, moved by the experience. The quiet of his entrancement was soon flooded back in by varying passerbys' voices again, and he found himself not knowing what to do. After some hesitation, and some awkwardness he wished to get rid of, he found it rude to not acknowledge the man's song, so he immediately clapped in an act of appreciation. It was all he could think of in the moment.

Still sitting on the fountain, the man narrowed his purple eyes, clutching at his lute. His hair was a caramel brown, some locks ravelled and knotted about. For the first time, Minho could hear the sound of stream from the fountain gushing upwards, splashing back into the star's pool of water. His awareness was returning. 

"Um—," Minho stuttered out half-embarassed, "I loved your song." He quickly pointed at the instrument, "Is that yours? The lute."

The adult lowered his gaze to his lute that rested in his hands, before slowly coming back up to meet Minho's eyes. Then he nodded.

Minho laughed, which was not very fitting for the general atmosphere of the moment, mostly because he was expecting a verbal answer. Yikes, this was going terribly. "I can't believe everyone else didn't pay attention, but they just kept walking. They missed out on a lot."

The man clutched at his lute harder. A very simple response. 

"My name is, uh," he honestly almost forgot his name on the spot, "It's Minho." He wrung his hands together, trying to hide how nervous he was in approaching the conversation. "Does the song have a name?"

At first, the person in front of him did not respond, still narrowing his eyes for some odd purpose that Minho could not understand. A hint of bewilderment to the glint of his eyes, and maybe some fear, almost like Minho had just seen it that very same day in the candle shop. "No," the man eventually said, voice low and deep, "It does not."

"Do you have a name?"

The adult's expression almost scowled. "Lazy Lute."

Minho tilted his head in confusion for what felt like the tenth time today. "Lazy Lute's?" He thought aloud, "Is that a store in the Shopping District?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"In the Shopping District."

Minho snorted. "That's fair, I guess. But what is your real name?"

"Lazy Lute."

"No it's not."

This time, he really did scowl. "For what purpose do you ask, and then belittle the names of others?"

"I was not—"

"Very well then," the adult spoke, "I have no real name." 

Minho was shocked. "I see."

"I have no real name as is to your normal standards in Levanin. But know this, little one, Lazy Lute is my real name."

"I'm sorry." How many times has he said that word today?

"It is not your fault. Things like my song, or people like me," he emphasized, "do not need names. I still exist with or without one. A name does not need to validate my existence. Would you agree that I exist right now in front of you?"

Was that a trick question? "Yes, you do." 

"Then that is good enough."

Young Minho nodded. "But your song," he continued cautiously, "That is your song, right? Was that magic?"

For once, the man smiled, chuckling softly. "You ask a lot of questions."

"But I really wanted to know! It was so amazing! And it was so pretty, I want everyone to hear it." He wasn't lying.

Lazy Lute lifted up the instrument a bit and held it close to his chest. "Maybe someday."

"Someday?" Minho was confused, there were many people around them after all. "You can do it right now, if you really wanted to."

"I am." He stretched out his arms tiredly. "Because I really want to," he added.

"And the lute, what kind of magic was that? Weird bubbles appeared everywhere. Is it possible for anyone to do that? To do that sort of magic?"

Lazy Lute grew tired of the conversation. "Magic is desire, wouldn't you say?"

"Desire?" Magic certainly was not desire. Magic was magic. Incantations, potions, all those wonderful things. Minho couldn't comprehend what he meant.

"The desire to achieve a goal. The will to change. Determination in living your life. If I don't need a name to exist, then Witches don't need magic to be... magical." Lazy Lute drowsily closed his dewy eyes while humming closely to his instrument, as if he were confirming his own words. "But you're not exactly here for my type of magic, are you? You're here to reach the nexus."

"The nexus?"

"Yes," he hummed, almost yawning. "It's the most central and most important place. In this case, I'm referring to the Shopping District. Otherwise, what reason would someone as young as you be off on their own in a big place like this, without proper accompaniment of a guardian?"

Minho guessed that the adult meant the center of the Shopping District. "You're right," he agreed, "I'm here to reach the top. I want to see it all for myself, and maybe find a spell or item. To help me."

"I figured as much," Lazy Lute laughed wholeheartedly, "the Shopping District is a very hilly place. Built on top of high levels. Many dips in ground. Many rises. The path you're looking for is just over there," he pointed a single finger somewhere behind him, showing Minho the path. 

And sure enough, there it was. Right in plain sight. He wondered why he didn't see it before. A set of stone stairs that reached the top of the Shopping District. "Up there? That's the place?" Minho asked.

"You know it is, more than I do. Main Avenue, heart of the Shopping District." All the streets of this district had names. This current one they were on happened to be Whimsical Road, which was one of many on the fourth level of the Shopping District. The fifth level would be the final level, with the single biggest road, holding the biggest range and variety of shops. It was the level Minho desired most.

"Thank you," Minho expressed. And really, he could not have been more thankful. He ran towards the stairs, located right next to the Magic Maps shop, which would lead atop to the nexus of the area. 

He jumped up, going over one stair. He jumped again, and again. The steps were not small by any means. Minho had progressively gotten faster, as he did climb up several sets of them before on his way here. In a record twenty second time, he successfully managed to get to the highest peak. However, as he turned around to look at the lute person one last time, Minho was surprised to find that the mysterious adult was no longer there. From where he could perfectly see in his position, precisely towards where the musician sat, there was an empty spot. It would not be impossible for Lazy Lute to slip into the crowd somehow, he assumed.

High in the sky, one of the paper airplanes that was previously flying swooped down incredibly fast, gliding passed Minho's shoulders. His eyes widened.

Of course! The work of his parents, no doubt. How could he overlook something right in front of his face? There was not much time left for him to be scouting around. Tomorrow was an important day of introduction at the Levanin's Elementary Studies School, abbreviated as LESS, and there would be no getting out of that.

Turning around to face Main Avenue in full, he was absolutely starstruck by the wideness of the walking space, the sheer amount of items and goods laid out near the windows, the way the lampposts illuminated in altering shades of tertiary colors. Other than that it was relatively the same in style. If he had the time, he wanted to go inside all of the shops.

If.

Right off the bat, there was a popular message service near the outskirts of Main which grabbed his attention, Mun-Hee's Mail Messages, and Minho quickly learned from the flyer outside it had various methods of delivering all types of information. Going down the list, there was at least fifteen different ways that they offered. Whether through fireworks in the sky, or random materialization of ink on paper. Although, it was kind of obvious that teens would probably end up misusing that first option for random declarations of love that may or may not have been pretty common in the city already. Meanwhile the second option was basically a sure way to cheat on written tests if the customer, say a student Witch, was careful enough in not getting caught. It was quite the possibility that he could see happening as well, despite it being rather impossible to erase the evidence. Minho also didn't really know if the place had regulations on students. However, the place did charge per word, and depending how elaborate the method of delivery sometimes it would even go as far as to charge per syllable. So good luck with that.

Next up was The Blissful Blizzard. Much to his disappointment it did not sell actual snowstorms that you could call down upon your greatest enemies, or something to that effect. Instead, it had more of a cool-vibe atmosphere. Oh, and it sold ice cream. No pun intended. And really, the owner was super nice after she explained the blizzards had side effects of increased concentration. She had offered a a spoon and sample of freshly-made mint chocolate chip ice cream blended together in a small see-through cup with a smiley scoop of dessert as its logo. Honestly? He didn't know what Jonaensi from The Pretty Wisp was talking about when she said mint chocolate was bad. But in all fairness, she made candles. Maybe candle flavor wasn't the best. When Minho was finishing his sample in a couple bites, he barely realized the chairs inside were literal scoops of ice cream, some pink, some purple. He wondered what the purple one tasted like. The tables had this yellow, wavy outline and some orange polka dots on the outer edges with cyan blues in the middle that the owner swore was created by the Woodcraft Works shop down the block. Walls and floor tiles were completely swallowed in sky blue. A colorful place. Pretty fitting, if you asked him. 

Minho knew time was short, so he willingly proceeded to skip some packed shops after that to not get horribly sidetracked by dead ends. Maybe that was the side effect kicking in. Because really, he still wanted to see everything. 

One of those shops he walked by was named Merry Hourglass, which he critically hypothesized through the power of observation was really just a bar he couldn't get into anyway. Another one was Jolly Jawbreakers, which sounded painful at first listen, but apparently it just sold candy. He only knew this when he saw some kids his age running out with bags of spherical sweets. The side effect of that candy? With a shrug of his shoulders, he concluded it was implied in the name. Maybe? Although who would want that.

Somewhere down the road was a store with a huge and bright sign by the name of Pandora's Box. It flashed in his face, tempting him to go inside. But, again, it was Pandora's Box! What was it doing here, of all places!? Chills being sent down his spine, he hightailed it out of there only to stop in his tracks and actually walk backwards to go inside Pandora's Box even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him not to. Disappointment again soon arose though, as the owner thoroughly and irritatingly explained more than once that they did not in fact sell Pandora's Box of Curses and Evils that would be sent out into the world to destroy all the Witches and the land of the world. That was probably in the Umine continent. This was Rukene. 

"We sell boxes, literally. With a Spacial Magic Spell we can adjust the size a bit to hold an increased amount of items inside. It makes moving from house to house easier, also just transporting general equipment for the everyday kind of job."

"Oh."

"Even if I did have Curses readily available I wouldn't sell it to a young Witch for world domination or whatever you were going on about."

"No, what I said was I thought I could summon Pandora's Box against my greatest enemies. You know, if I have any when I start school here," Minho corrected.

"You said you were seven, where are your parents?"

And that was basically that. Seriously, why did these places insist on having misleading titles. 

As he ventured further down Main, the ground began to dip and slant in certain ways, leading to a downhill sort of plain that continued onwards, eventually curving. A shop to his left by the name of The Silver Nymph, which he hoped would be the one. But was he surprised? No. Because they did not actually let you learn powerful Nymph spells there. Anyway, there was another failed attempt at trying the Triton's Trident shop that didn't actually have three-pronged spears to give out but merely sold inflatable magical tubes that talked for the sole purpose of instructing Witches on how to float on water. As a bonus, Triton's Trident was even offering swimming lessons at the city's largest swimming pool with the appropriate scheduling. Minho was kind of lost for words. None of these places really had what he was looking for. And he was definitely sure he would never need swimming lessons in the future. He's a Witch for crying out loud! 

Minho was beginning to get really impatient. He started biting his lip as the worrying thoughts piled in his head. What is he supposed to look for? Maybe he could not do this by himself after all.

Numerous places later, and the thought did dawn on him to simply ask someone. Someone older than him if they knew any helpful advice, or a general point in the right direction. 

But that wasn't necessary. 

Minho stopped walking, only to look at his reflection in one of a shop's window displays outside. He was lost and needed some sort of guidance. It was difficult to see inside, but this shop had a scary looking dragon-snake hybrid creature as its logo. Particularly, its scales were a purple-blue color, glistening off the sunlight in certain angles. He could see the sharp teeth indirectly threatening him, probably honed enough to cut through the toughest objects of this labyrinth district. Its piercing, green eyes were way more menacing though, and he dared to question if this place even sold such a thing. Such a living being. Further inspecting the logo, it appeared the dragon was coming out of some dark portal. Like another dimension? Was such a thing possible?

He guessed that was as good of guidance as he was going to so kindly receive, and what better than a dragon to help him. Probably just for a day. Just one.

With some slight hesitation, probably for more moments than he would like to admit, he mustered up the courage to push open the door.

A chime rang through the building, signaling his entrance. 

Yeah, he should have known. The place was nothing like he anticipated, nor could it be something he would ever predict. First of all, it was much bigger on the inside than the outside led him to believe. Lined against the wall, like usual, was a counter. Behind it, a back room for storage. Walls painted dark blue, except the one behind the counter. That wall was white, with some remarkable posters of discounts and sales here and there. Next to the counter he found a book cart, with a bunch of other novels neatly organized on it. Taped onto the cart, a piece of paper politefully written in ink as Please Return Your Books Here. If he could look around and count, there must have been at least forty book shelves scattered all over, towering over him like an obstacle course not even including the hundreds and hundreds — maybe even thousands — of publications surrounding the perimeter of the shop way beyond his height. 

It didn't seem like anyone was here. Minho took the left path, rather than the right path, mostly because he is originally left handed. Couldn't ever go wrong with choosing left. The soft rug carpet below his shoes muffled most of his movement. If he looked up to squint, which was incredibly hard as he was not tall enough, he could manage to spot that each aisle of books had its own category section. Upon peeking passed the first corner and into the long aisle, he had the strange feeling that these mountains of literature would topple any day now. Usually, books are stacked side to side, but there were even books stacked on top of those to fill the space. From every corner, every inch, most of the poor books seemed cramped, about ready to fall over and land on his head in a strategic ambush. Touching over the spines, it was quite clear which aisle he was in. One of the books was called Witch Wars of the Rukene Continent. A green one to the side, named Magic Through the Years. Another by the title of The Magic Tree: How It All Began. This was the Historical section. 

He skimmed through the rest, reaching the end of the aisle. The books lined up on the wall seemed to be part of the Historical aisle, too. A look towards his left, and the maze just did not seem to end. Minho kept going, trying to find a dragon, if any. It was incredibly doubtful there was one here. But one could hope. 

The second aisle being equally as long, he took a fast walk through most of it, scanning any contents for a snake or dragon-like creature thing. One with purple or blue scales and piercing eyes that could turn you helpless long enough for it to defeat you. Just like on the logo outside. This section had no luck. What he found was mostly writings of some famous Witches that probably shaped the future of magic as they all came to know, not that he cared for the details at the moment. But it was definitely still part of the Historical section, some of it merging with the next category: History of Magical Items. Before moving on, he did grab one book at random, opening it to an unknown page. The title chapter was History of Magical Wands. It read as follows:

_During the Pangaea Era, the early Coven Witches tested their Channelization Theory through the carving of various tree bark. However, all attempts failed: except for one. At the time, most Coven Witches and Fae factions were allies, making allocation and trading of Fae resources relatively easy, which proved to be the key asset in the Channelization Theory. To assist in accuracy, these wands made from the infamous Swamp Trees of the Fae land channeled forms of magical energy into one focal point. It is because of this revolutionary method that magical spells and fields of study expanded immensely to their current states. However, new techniques have since then been implemented in channeling magic, thus making the Witch's wand an outdated tool. These days, wands take on more symbolic meaning in numerous cities around the world. Even so . . ._

Minho grew bored, and quite frankly time was not on his side, so he closed the book and gently put it back in place. Maybe some other day he would pick up where he left off.

The shop's organization was something that anyone may get accustomed to, so the following couple aisles he strolled by lingered on the history topic a bit before branching out to more niche genres like Cooking or Fantasy, as expressed on the shelves' category sections. To summarize, there was an odd lack of something. 

Actual magical spells. 

Maybe this was not the shop for that. What was the name of this place again? The answer escaped him, as if it were never there to begin with. He could have sworn he read the name of the store before entering. But then, perhaps he didn't. 

He must not have, otherwise he would surely remember. If this building did not have spells or dragons or snakes of the sort to aide in his dire times of being seven years old, then there was not much of a point in being here. But of course, just like the misleading nature of the Shopping District, the universe always had a way of proving him wrong.

Turning around the corner of a shelf somewhere in the middle, one of those aisles, he was astonished to find a boy around his height. Dressed in a familiar looking uniform, with black pants and a white buttoned-up shirt, accompanied by a matching loose necktie and dark blazer. His hair was neatly trimmed and short, probably due to dress code, with dark brown waves curling on top and slightly over his forehead. This boy appeared to be in a deep reading session, standing idly and eyes drifting left to right capturing every word and sentence typed down on the page, only turning to Minho's direction once Minho actually bothered to clear his throat to make his presence known after a moment or two. 

The boy in uniform slightly closed the novel, more of a respectful manner kind of thing, giving the other his undivided attention. "Sorry, didn't see you there. The owner will be out soon, he's off finishing some sorting in the back room. You could wait for him in the front."

Minho nodded slowly. "Actually I was looking for something, it's kind of important."

"Oh?" He completely closed the novel now. "Maybe I could help? I do regularly visit here, so I more or less know my way around."

This reminded Minho of something Ruby said earlier. He tilted his head, perplexed, "Are you an intern then? A young Witch intern?"

"No," the curly-haired boy laughed, "Not yet, maybe in the future. Young Witches aren't allowed to do that. Exploitation of labor and all, you know?"

"Not really..." he drew out the last word extra long, letting it dip into a fiddly silence, emphasizing his confusion. 

"I see," the boy readjusted the sleeve of his blazer, "I'm Chan by the way. Judging by your question, you must be new here."

Minho was surprised by the educated guess. Although, in hindsight, it probably was not difficult to figure out. He did stick out like a sore thumb in this district. "Yeah, kind of," he admitted. "I'm from the other side of the continent, you've probably never heard of the city. But I start classes tomorrow. I'm Minho."

Chan nodded sympathetically. "Well, then. Welcome to the Beguiling Bookwyrm. How can I help you?"

"A worm, like a book worm? There are types like that?"

He covered a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh at the unintentional joke. "Some people pronounce it differently. But a wyrm is unique. It's more like a serpent, sometimes a beast. You know, like a dragon. Without the wings and limbs."

Minho's eyes lit up. "Does this place have one? A wyrm?"

Chan thought for a second, eyes glancing up to the ceiling like a force of habit during deep thought. A book on the wyrm? "You could try the comics further down. They must have something like that, but just be careful. And make sure to keep an eye out."

Finally, a lead on something! "Thanks."

"No problem."

And just like that he stormed off to the end of the Beguiling Bookwyrm, trying to find his answer. 

Very soon, it was revealed to be true. The boy in uniform did not lie. Towards the end of the store there was a couple of aisles filled with comics. Much thinner in comparison to the works in the other sections. Each one was uniquely colored. Some of them were old tales of the past, probably a recollection of historical events. Some mythology thrown in there. These could prove to be useful to him. Maybe. There was one completely covered in a chilly, pale blue. Its title was The Ice Wyvern. No, that wasn't the correct one. But maybe if he couldn't find something to his liking he would come back to it. Just in case, he made a mental note of where to retrieve it. 

Much further in the same area, he pressed a finger down and along the spine of a red one that caught his eye. In white lettering, the title contained the magical word of wyrm, and he instantly slid the comic out in eagerness. However, upon opening to the first page, a red puddle of magic abruptly formed in the middle of the paper, spiraling in an ominous circle. There was a sound coming from the booklet, like a sizzling spark of a lit firework about to go off. Minho felt his heart drop to his stomach, and he quickly dropped the comicbook down onto the floor and dove for cover, shielding his head with his arms. 

Three seconds later, the magic spell on the comic strip went off, shooting a blazing firebolt out and ricocheting everywhere, crackling pops and bursts exploding into tiny bits and singing some of the wooden shelves in red afterburn. A brief smoke trail shrouded the lane, causing him to cough and wave it out of his face. He seemed to be okay. 

Vital organs. Check. 

Clothes. Check. 

Not long after, as he was picking himself up, Minho could hear the worried panting of someone running towards him. As the noise came closer, running into the aisle, it was who he thought it was. The boy named Chan. "What happened!? Are you okay? You literally left for twenty seconds—" He spotted the open comicbook and made fast work of closing the thing. "What were you thinking!?" 

"I—"

Chan glanced up, gesturing towards the small sign standing atop the large bookshelf. "I told you to be careful and keep your eyes peeled."

Minho looked up, following the direction of importance. The sign literally said Miscellaneous & Dangerous Comic Section. "Oh." This was embarrassing.

"Do you not have magic comicbooks where you lived?" he asked genuinely, voice still disconcerted from what just occurred. 

All Minho could do was shake his head, slowly processing that such a creation exists. "No, I thought they were regular ones."

Chan sighed deeply. "That could have ended badly. What are you looking for specifically? Let me help you, please." It goes without saying that his offer for help was not really a choice. He would help Minho, whether Minho accepted it or not. Before something like that happened again. 

"For Rotten Souls and Magic," Minho cursed, "Why would a bookstore have a Dangerous section!? Isn't that... dangerous!?" 

"It's standard policy to only have a ban on high-tier magic comics," Chan assured. "That firebolt was relatively weak, but I've never witnessed someone open it wrong. You're supposed to open it upwards, away from you, to activate the safety mode. If you open it towards yourself, like I'm assuming you did, then it's a disaster waiting to happen. The original authors were weird like that, thinking someone was always willing to steal their works for profit or something."

"What a roundabout way of saying it's a death trap," Minho rebutted bitterly, huffing and letting his shoulders sag down in eased tension. It was a much more obvious explanation, one that was very simple and to the point.

They looked at each other right in the eye, neither one willing to stay angry for long and each cracking a smile at this messy event. Just looking at the ashes in Minho's hair and the black soot staining the wood was kind of funny, honestly. It could be cleaned up, though. An easy fix. "Guess you're right," Chan cracked up. 

"But thank you, again. I'll make sure not to make the same mistake."

"Anytime." Chan looked down at the booklet and analyzed the title, then back up to Minho, raising a curious brow of his. "This is The Tale of the Trapped Witch in the Wyrm's Volcano. That explains the firebolt earlier. But what is it that you're really looking for?"

Minho shook the small amount of ash off that remained on his hair. "A weapon." Again, he stated this so simply. 

Chan nearly choked on his saliva. "A— A weapon? Thank magic," he joked sarcastically, "I thought you were trying to catch a wyrm."

Wait a minute. Minho's mouth opened in amazement, "That's possible?"

"Don't even think about it."

"Oh."

"What do you even need a weapon for? Surely you have a good reason?" Perhaps it was none of Chan's business. But considering the Witch in front of him clearly did not understand what he was doing, maybe it was in everyone's best interests if he meddled just a bit. Besides, the young Witch wanted a weapon! A weapon!

"It's a long story," Minho confessed. 

Chan humorously rolled his eyes, looking through the small and empty spaces of the shelves to see if anyone was inside the shop or if the owner had come out yet. The coast was clear. They were alone. "I have time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For what it's worth, this is the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOpAh5c6zKo) that the musician was playing at the star fountain. I hope I gave the song justice and described it accurately, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Part Two will be the second half of this dream memory.


End file.
